


your money where your mouth is

by endlessnighttimesky



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Blow Jobs, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, M/M, Piercings, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessnighttimesky/pseuds/endlessnighttimesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you have to go to the ER after this you won't blame me, you mean?"</p><p>Frank grins. "I take full responsibility," he agrees. "Now put it in me, baby."</p>
            </blockquote>





	your money where your mouth is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apolliades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apolliades/gifts).



> massive thanks to cas for this idea ily bby <3 xo (this hasn't been looked over too closely, so if anyone notices any errors, i'm sorry about that, and you're free to comment so i can edit it)

 

“Fuck it,” Frank mutters under his breath. “Gee!”

“What?” Gerard calls from where he’s sprawled on his bedroom floor, joint still burning between his fingers. He makes a vague notion about not wasting good weed, but that’s all it is – vague and hazy, floating somewhere in the back of his mind. For a Catholic school boy, Frank can score good pot. 

(When Gerard told Frank that, Frank giggled, high and stupid, his usual pot-giggle, and told Gerard to watch who he called Catholic, because he doesn’t get on his knees for just anyone, and when he does it’s definitely not to pray. Gerard had been plagued by thoughts concerning whether Frank would get on his knees for him for the rest of the night.)

Even as he laughs at how baked Gerard sounds, Frank can’t help but hope the pot hasn’t affected Gerard’s fine motor skills as much as it seems to have affected his voice, because he needs the ring in his lip, dammit, why did he even take it out? God, he must’ve been more stoned than he first thought. He still is, to be honest, which is probably why he can’t get the ring back in, but at least he’s sober enough to realize that taking the piece of shit out was a stupid idea in the first place. He’s no near being actually sober, though.

“Get in here,” is all he tells Gerard.

“Why?” Gerard whines before he takes another hit, blowing smoke towards the stained ceiling of the basement. The room is fucking dirty, not just messy anymore, and the ensuite Frank’s in isn’t much better, but there’s something oddly comforting about the state of Gerard’s bedroom. It’s familiar, Frank supposes.

“You gotta help me put my lip ring back in,” Frank answers as he puts the ring down on the edge of the sink and sits down on the toilet, waiting for Gerard to drag himself into the bathroom.

Gerard doesn’t say anything to that, just brings up the joint to put between his lips before he pushes himself off the floor and walks into the bathroom.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Frankie,” Gerard tells him as he picks the ring up from the sink, pinched between thumb and forefinger. “Why’d you take it out?”

“Beats me,” Frank answers honestly, because he really has no idea why he’d ever do that. He practically hasn’t touched the thing since he put it in the first time, his attitude towards piercings consisting mostly of a theory that the human body can handle itself, and he should just stay away and let it do its thing. “Don’t want it to close up, though, and I can’t get it in myself, so you gotta help me.”

Gerard squints at the ring in his hand, and then at Frank. “I’m gonna hurt you.”

Frank laughs. “Fucking hell you are. You’re an artist, man, if anyone’s got a steady hand it’s you.”

Gerard blushes. It’s his body’s automatic response to whenever Frank calls him an artist. It doesn’t matter that he got into SVA, or that his bedroom is littered with sketches and markers, he just doesn’t see it. Frank does, though, and will never fail to remind Gerard of it. Gerard’s fucking cute when he blushes.

“If you have to go to the ER after this you won’t blame me, you mean?”

Frank grins. “I take full responsibility,” he agrees. “Now put it in me, baby.”

Gerard just rolls his eyes and crowds closer, standing with his legs slightly spread so he can fit Frank’s between them and get close enough to see his mouth properly. Tilting his head back, Frank parts his lips and looks up at Gerard, and damn, that’s a nice view. Gerard feels himself shiver, and can only hope Frank doesn’t notice. From the glint in Frank’s eyes, though, that doesn’t seem too likely.

Shaking the feeling off, Gerard pulls Frank’s lower lip out so he can see the hole from the inside, and then slides the ring into place with one end positioned over the outer hole before starting to twist it in, slow and careful.

It shouldn’t be as nerve-wracking as it is, but Gerard isn’t really sure that the fear of hurting Frank is what’s the problem anymore. No, he’s pretty convinced it has more to do with how Frank is basically licking his fingers, tongue pushing at Gerard’s fingertips, wet and pink.

Turning around to grab the segment from the sink, Gerard takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling like he hasn’t smoked anywhere close to enough weed. Never would he have thought that his fingers in Frank’s mouth would be such a buzzkill.

Nothing has improved by the time Gerard turns back. Actually, Frank is somehow just looking even more like – Gerard doesn’t even know. Like he wants nothing more than a cock in his mouth and maybe a thigh to rub off on later. Like he’d fall to his knees, right here and now, if Gerard told him to. Like he would even if Gerard didn’t say a word.

Forcing himself to push those thoughts away, Gerard grabs Frank’s lip again and pushes the segment into place, before twisting the ring so the segment sits hidden on the inside, just behind Frank’s lip. Thinking he’s all done now, Gerard goes to pull his hand away, but then there’s a hand around his wrist, keeping Gerard’s fingers where they are. Which, at the moment, is buried in Frank’s mouth, his tongue working around and between them, hot and wet.

“Frankie,” Gerard breathes when Frank finally lets his fingers drop from his mouth. He doesn’t pull back his hand, though, and instead traces his fingers along Frank’s chin, leaving a trail of spit on his skin, glistening in the harsh fluorescent lights.

Before Gerard even knows what’s going on, Frank is standing up and their lips are meeting, and Frank’s hands on his shoulders and pushing him back, through the doorway and across the room until he can push him down on the bed and straddle him.

“Oh God,” Gerard breathes when Frank grinds down, hand clenching in the back of his t-shirt, nails digging in. “Frankie…”

Frank giggles against Gerard’s lips, still feeling the effects of the pot. He pecks them one last time before he pulls back, their foreheads still touching and noses almost brushing together as he mumbles, “Hey,” slow and soft. “I’ve wanted to do that since, like, forever.”

“Me – me too,” Gerard stutters, blushing furiously.

Knowing Gerard needs a little more reassurance, Frank starts explaining how this isn’t just a stupid stunt, not something he’s doing just because they’ve smoked up. “I know I do stupid shit when I’m high sometimes but… This isn’t one of those things, alright? I’m not gonna forget this when I crash. Or, like, ever.”

“Me neither,” Gerard admits, blush still high on his cheeks.

Frank smiles, wide and honest. “Good,” he says, and then he’s moving down, sliding off Gerard’s lap and onto the floor, carpet rubbing against his bare knees through the holes in his jeans. He tucks his fingers in the waistband of Gerard’s pajama pants and looks up at Gerard. “Can I?”

Gerard manages a jerky nod, face still flushed, lifting his hips and letting Frank pull his pants and underwear down. He cringes a little at the sight of his flabby thighs, but Frank pays it no mind, just pushes them slightly apart so he can get at Gerard’s dick, one hand wrapping around the shaft as he covers the head with his mouth, immediately going at it with his tongue. From above, he hears Gerard moan, and he’s so glad that the rest of the Way family is out, because Gerard is fucking loud, and he’d rather not have Donna walk in on him sucking her son’s dick.

“Fucking hell, Frankie,” Gerard curses, hands clenching uselessly in the sheets. Frank catches the movement in the corner of his eye, and slides his hand off Gerard’s thigh, using it to move one of Gerard’s hands to his hair. He looks up at Gerard through his eyelashes to see if he gets the hint, groaning around Gerard’s cock when he tugs experimentally at the strands. A crooked smile makes its way onto Gerard’s face, and he pulls again, a little harder this time. Frank’s eyes fall shut and he moans, shoving a hand between his legs to rub against. As he does this, he takes Gerard’s cock deeper, letting him push all the way into his mouth and breathing through his nose as he stays there, lips stretched around the base.

“Oh God,” Gerard breathes when Frank pulls back and almost all the way off, swirling his tongue around the head again and pushing the tip into the slit, licking up the pre-come. “So fucking good, Frankie, so good.”

Lowering his head again, Frank keeps his lips in a tight ring around Gerard’s dick, the warm metal of his lip ring pressing into the soft skin, making Gerard keen above him. He’s bucking up slightly now, pushing his spit-slick dick further into Frank’s mouth and keeping his head steady with the hand he’s got in his hair. His grip tightens as he tenses up, hips almost lifting entirely off the bed as the fucks Frank’s mouth, pushing all the way into the back of his throat. Frank doesn’t even protest, barely gags, just stays on his knees and takes it, one hand still moving between his legs, rubbing against the denim.

“I’m gonna come,” he warns, almost ripping strands out of Frank’s scalp, but Frank doesn’t move an inch, just bobs his head faster and sucks harder, cheeks hollowing. Gerard panics a little, but in the end he can’t do anything about it, can’t keep himself from coming, right in Frank’s mouth.

Frank doesn’t pull off until he’s milked Gerard dry, and when he does it’s only to surge up and push Gerard down on the bed, hands grasping at his face as he kisses him.

“Please,” he begs, but Gerard’s already at it, unbuttoning and unzipping Frank’s jeans, pushing them out of the way together with his underwear. When he finally closes his hand around Frank’s dick, it’s to the sound of Frank groaning in his ear, rough and grated from sucking Gerard off and swallowing his come. 

“C’mon, Frankie,” Gerard urges, grip tight around Frank’s dick as he strokes him. It’s quick and a little sloppy, but that doesn’t seem to matter, because a minute or two later he’s coming all over Gerard’s hand, making noises Gerard could never even dream were possible. He sounds like porn, and if he hadn’t just come, Gerard swears he’d be hard as a fucking rock.

“Fuck,” Frank breathes against Gerard’s neck. “I – fuck.”

Gerard mumbles something unintelligible, almost just a sound, and nuzzles Frank’s hair. Craning his neck, Frank looks up at him, seeing a satisfied smile and a slight flush to his cheeks. It makes Frank want to kiss him, so he does, because now he can – Gerard is his and no one else’s.

“We should shower,” Frank suggests when they break apart. “There’s come everywhere.”

There’s not come everywhere, just on Gerard’s hand and a little on his hip – not nearly enough to warrant a shower, according to Gerard.

“Problem solved,” he says, wiping the come off his hip with his already dirty hand, only to wipe it all off on a corner of the sheet.

Frank makes a disgusted noise. “You’re so fucking gross. You’re changing these sheets tomorrow. And showering.”

Gerard hums noncommittally, already drifting off.

“Dickhead,” Frank mumbles, but it’s affectionate, and before he knows it, they’re both asleep.


End file.
